by Styles, T.
“I thought you said it was taken.”
She caught Farah in a lie. “It is.”
“But you said more candidates are coming.”
“Oh, my God! You’re fucking blowing me!” Farah got up and moved toward the door and prospect number eighteen was right on her heels. When she turned around she looked like she was about to hit her. Farah opened the door wide and was shocked to see the cousin on the other side.
The cousin rolled her eyes at Farah and looked at prospect number eighteen and said, “You ready? ’Cause I double parked outside.”
“Hey, cousin!” Prospect number eighteen grinned. “Yeah, I’m ready. I just feel like stomping this bitch out before I leave, though.”
“What we waiting on?” the cousin said, trying to step into her apartment.
“I don’t know who y’all think I am, but I can’t be moved.” She went into her pocket and flicked a switchblade. When prospect number eighteen saw it next to her pussy her heart jumped. Then Farah opened her mouth to show the small razor sitting on her wet pink tongue. It was the one thing she took from her dead future mother-in-law that she never stopped using, except once. The one time she didn’t have it in her mouth she almost lost her life with Tank, a fuckup she continued to pay for. “I guarantee you I could slice both of y’all quicker than a honey-glazed ham. Now get the fuck out of my face and house.” Farah was starting to have second thoughts about staying with another female. Maybe she would do good to move in with Randy after all.
They both looked at Farah and the knife and ran down the hallway. On their way out they bumped into another girl coming toward Farah’s door. She tucked in the knife, and readjusted her tongue blade before prospect number nineteen could see anything. “I take it neither one of them got the room.” Prospect number nineteen giggled.
“Not even close,” Farah said. “Anyway, come in. My name is Farah Cotton.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
Farah’s nineteenth candidate looked the part. She was light skinned with long hair and was very attractive to look at. Farah was sure that if Coconut saw her she’d be jealous because she and Farah looked so much alike they could be sisters. Prospect number nineteen walked inside slowly, examining the fly apartment. Farah saw a smile spread over her face as she looked at the high ceilings, large windows, and expensive leather furniture. When she eyed the floor, Farah caught her examining the new plush cream carpeting before she took a seat on the sofa. “Wow ... I had no idea it would be so nice in here.” She looked at the ceiling again. “Especially since it’s still in the—”
“Hood.” Farah laughed, finishing her sentence. “You know they doing a lot to DC now, girl. They renovated so many apartment buildings that in a little while, black people won’t be able to afford to live anywhere on earth. I know I don’t give a fuck though. Half of them don’t know how to take care of nice shit anyway.”
Prospect number nineteen frowned. “What you mean? You think all black people are ghetto?”
“No, just most of them.”
Prospect number nineteen decided to keep her comments to herself. “Anyway, you have a really nice place. I feel like I walked into an episode of Cribs. As she adjusted on the leather sofa, it softly groaned.
Farah giggled at her comment. “Thank you.” She grabbed the blunt in the ashtray. “You smoke?”
“Naw.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”
“You sure? It’s some good shit. My friend Coconut got a line to the best loud DC has to offer. Between me and you, I think she’s growing the shit in her house. You sure you don’t want a hit?” She shook her head again. Farah put the blunt out and picked up the applications on the table. She was blowing her already because if a bitch didn’t like to get high, she couldn’t trust her. “So what’s your name?”
“Nadia Gibson.”
She located her application and scanned over it. “Okay, Nadia, why do you wanna live here?”
“Because it’s fly for one.” She looked around again. “And for two it’s close to my job.”
“I noticed you left what you do for a living blank.” She scanned the document briefly. “Any reason why?”
“I used to work as a customer service rep for Verizon. But I left them mothafuckas a long time ago. People like to keep up too much shit in call centers.”
“Oh ... I used to work for Verizon too. Well ... for two days anyway. It was a summer position.”
“Wow ... not even here for five minutes and already we have shit in common.” She paused. “Where do you work now?”
“I’m unemployed.”
“Unemployed?” Nadia frowned. “Well, if I stay here, how you gonna help with your part of the rent? And bills?”
“My mother helps me out a lot. And there’s always a nigga lurking in the background, willing to help a bitch out too.” Farah cackled. Nadia didn’t so much as grin. “Anyway.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll always have my portion so if I choose you to live here with me, that won’t be a problem.” This bitch got me fucked up. This my mothafuckin’ apartment. Not the other way around.
“Your mamma gonna help you out forever?” She frowned.
“As long as I keep her secret.”
Silence.
“You sure that’s gonna work?” she continued. “I mean, I had a roommate awhile back and things didn’t end well because she couldn’t pay her part of the bills. I’m not willing to get into that situation again.”
She seemed uncomfortable and suddenly Farah felt like she was interviewing for the room. “It has been working so far. Me and my mother have an understanding.” Farah put the papers on the table and wiped her sweaty hands on her velour pants. “I mean, is that a problem for you? It is my apartment and you are looking for a place to stay. Right?”
Nadia thought about it for a while and said, “No... .” She shook her head rapidly. “It should be fine if you reassure me you won’t be late on your rent each month. That’s the only way I’ll stay here.”
Bitch, you don’t even got the room yet.
“It s just that I’m looking for stability, especially with having the type of job I do now. The last thing I wanna do is pack up everything and have to move again in a few months.”
“What do you do for a living now?”
“I’m a homicide detective for the DC police department. I’ve been there for five years.”
The meeting was officially over.
Farah looked at the blunt on the table, which she’d offered the officer a few moments earlier. No wonder she didn’t accept. She was a cop. She could never live there, especially after what happened to Zone. What was to stop her from telling DC’s finest if she ever learned how he really died? “It’s taken!” Farah blurted.
The officer frowned. “What’s taken?”
“The room.”
She leaned in to be sure she heard her correctly. “But why didn’t you say that before? When I first got here?”
“I’m telling you now. You can’t live here. There ain’t even enough room.”
She stood like the last girl and looked down at Farah. “It’s the cop thing, isn’t it? And the fact that you smoke weed. Most people I know smoke, so it’s not even a problem. Trust me. You can do whatever you want, just as long as you don’t kill anybody.”
“I need you to get out of my house.” Farah was nervous. “Please.”
“You seem fucked up.” She smirked. “Did I just pull your card or something?”
“Can you please go?” Farah never looked into the officer’s eyes. She was starting to feel panicky. Although Grand told her to take the medicine once a day by mouth, Farah discovered that she needed it at least four times a day. Something about going into the cooler and putting the liquid to her lips put her at immediate ease.
“Look, I really need this room. If you’re worried about me being a cop, like I said, you don’t have to. I just need to stay in a place I can afford, that’s close to work and safe. This may be in the hood but the b
uilding is secure. Plus I have a gun. I have a lot of student loans and the rent is right up my alley. I think this can work.”
“It will never work. Trust me.”
“You know it’s better to have me on your side than it is to have me off?” Every time she opened her mouth all Farah heard was “cop, cop, cop, cop.” She could plead with her until she grew hair on her face. Her family was crazy and deranged and she couldn’t risk Nadia snooping around and finding out about who the Cottons truly were. “I should’ve known something was up when you specified that you wanted to live with another red bone.” She looked at the applications in Farah’s lap. “I bet you don’t even have any friends. Or a man, do you?” She laughed harder. “Your neighbors probably don’t even fuck with you!”
“Whoever is in my life is my fucking business. Bitches kill me getting mad because I didn’t choose them to stay. We ain’t fucking! Now bounce before I call the police.”
She looked at her and shook her head. “I am the police. Or have you forgotten already?” Nadia looked at her with a penetrating glare. There was something up with this Farah Cotton, she was sure of it. “I don’t know why, but for some reason, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
Farah moved toward the door. “Good-bye, Detective.”
Nadia smirked and walked out. Farah closed the door quickly and leaned up against it to regain her composure. That shit was too close for comfort.
At the end of the day Farah was tired of interviewing a rack of bitches who were all wrong. She realized she needed a roommate but everything she had to go through, in her opinion, was for the birds. Nadia was right about one thing: she never got along with her neighbors. Zone told her all the time that if someone broke in his apartment not one of them would care enough to tell him what they saw. Suddenly meeting the people in her building seemed like a good idea. First she decided to take her medicine. She knew if she did nothing else, she had better take care of her health. It did wonders for her complexion, body, and mood. Often times she would feel better just thinking about it before she even got to the cooler. Prior to meeting Grand Mike she spent $200 a week on makeup, and now she was down to about forty.
Farah walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. Grabbing a magazine she thumbed through the pages and saw a girl who looked like her baby sister. She missed Chloe. A lot. As wrong as she was, she was still her sister and they’d never gone so long without talking to one another. Chloe had been calling nonstop saying she had to talk to her about what happened, but for the moment, Farah seen enough of her face and pussy to last a lifetime. After Farah finished using the bathroom, she grabbed her pink Mikasa cup and proceeded on her mission to borrow sugar, which she really didn’t need.
Ever since Zone died, she isolated herself even more from those who lived in her building. She would go so far as to ignore people who spoke to her in passing in the hallways. At first, before she met Grand, Farah was too afraid they’d look at the sores on her face and judge her. She didn’t have that problem anymore. But it was because of the drama in her apartment that construction workers had to go into her neighborshomes to redo all of their windows. After Zone’s death, the fire department determined the windows couldn’t stand up to the safety code and in their professional opinion, had the windows been properly installed, Zone would still be alive today. Of course, they’d be wrong.
On a mission, she grabbed her key and walked out the door. Her naked toes burrowed into the plush burgundy carpet as she walked to the far end of the hallway. Spotting the door she wanted to knock on first, she took two quick breaths because she was nervous when meeting new people. Then she looked down at her neat True Religion jeans and clean white T-shirt. Feeling that she looked fine enough to bum, she knocked softly on the first door.
What am I doing? Maybe I should just go home. She was about to abandon the entire idea when a fourteen-year-old pudgy black kid opened the door and said, “What you want?” She’d never seen him before; then again, she didn’t see many of her neighbors. When she looked farther into the apartment and saw a picture of him and a large older woman on the wall she realized exactly where she was ... Vivian James’s apartment, who was her property manager and who also couldn’t stand her.
“What do you want?” he repeated.
“I wanted to borrow some sugar.” Farah raised the cup and smiled. “You got any?”
“Do you even live in this building?”
Farah was tired of looking at his extra round face so she sarcastically said, “No. I just appeared from nowhere with no shoes on, stupid.” The pudgy kid looked at her feet and slammed the door in her face. Farah didn’t move right away because she contemplated knocking on the door again and smacking him down. Instead, she mustered up enough courage to proceed to the next location. This time she ran her fingers through her natural brown hair and took two deep breaths. When she was ready, she hit the door twice with her knuckles and stepped back. A smile spread across her face in the hopes that whoever answered would be welcoming.
“Yes?” a girl asked, throwing the door open. She was pretty with large brown eyes and freckled light skin. The only thing missing was her sweet disposition. “What the fuck do you want?” The girl’s eyes moved over Farah as she made a judgment.
She took a deep breath and said, “Uh ... do you have ... I was wondering ...”
“You here to see Kirk?” The girl glared.
Hoping Kirk was nicer, she said, “Yes, is he home?”
Air seemed to fill the girl’s chest as she balled up her fists and looked sternly at Farah. “I’m tired of you bitches trying to ruin my fucking marriage! When you gonna realize Kirk is married? Huh?” she screamed, stepping into the hallway. If she swung Farah had all intentions of dropping her at her doorstep.
Seconds later, an attractive man with an extra-long beard walked out. “Who is this?” he asked her.
“You tell me!” screaming girl yelled. “I know one thing, I’m sick of these bitches coming over here with this bullshit, Kirk! I thought you said you wanted to make this work! I thought you said you wanted me!”
“I do, baby. I don’t know this bitch.” He pointed at Farah.
“Well, what the fuck is she doing here?”
“Don’t ask me!” He looked at Farah. “Who the fuck are you anyway?”
“I’m ... your neighbor. I ... I live down the hall.” Farah tried to create a smile but it didn’t move upward. Truth was, she was growing weary of the foolishness already. “I was just trying to see if you had some sugar. But if I caused too much drama, I can roll, it’s not that deep.”
“You wanted to see if we had some fucking sugar? screaming girl said. “Bitch, don’t play games. You came for him so here he is.”
“Look, I’m not gonna be too many more of your bitches.”
“You gonna be as many bitches as I call you.”
“Baby, I don’t know who this chick is,” he interrupted, “but I swear to God I’m not fucking around on you this time!”
“How come I don’t believe you?” screaming girl said, resting her hands on her hips. “She came over here asking for you! Called you by your name and everything,” she lied. “Here I am making dinner and sucking your dick in between checking on the meal and you still not satisfied. What a bitch gotta do to keep you?”
“You told my girl you know me?” Kirk asked.
“Like I said, I was just coming to get some sugar.” This bitch is doing too much now. The moment Farah said that the pudgy kid entered the hallway. Instead of minding his own fucking business he straight leaned against the wall and watched the entire scene unfold while chewing popcorn.
Farah was preparing to walk away when Kirk grabbed her forcefully by the wrist. His long bitch-like nails dug into her skin and she was sure if he didn’t let go, he’d break her arm. “You ain’t going nowhere until you tell my girl you fucking lied on me! If you don’t she gonna be at my throat all night and I don’t feel like that shit.”
“I don’t know hi
m,” Farah said to the girl. “I live in apartment 1316. If I knew all of this was gonna pop off, I never would’ve came over here. You can keep him because I damn sure don’t want him.” She flashed the engagement ring she didn’t even respect. “I have a man.”
“You told me you don’t live here,” the pudgy kid interjected. “When you knocked on my door. Maybe you were coming to see him.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Fat fuckin’ bastard! Why don’t he mind his fat-ass business! “I was just playing with you!” Farah yelled. “I do live in the building and have been here for years. That’s why I don’t have no shoes on. What I’m gonna do, get out of my car and walk through the snow and hallways with bare feet?” Farah paused. “My boyfriend was the one who died a month ago.”
“You getting married already?”
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway my ex fell out the window. It was because of that everybody in this building had to get new windows.” screaming girl’s expression changed and Farah felt she believed her. If she didn’t, she had all intentions of reaching into her mouth, removing her blade, and slicing both of them quickly if he let her go. Suddenly, for some reason, all she wanted to do was talk to her grandmother. It was as if she foresaw everything that was happening to her in advance.
“So you fucking a bitch in our building?” Screaming girl frowned. “Right under my nose?” Either she was petty or she was just ready to rumble. Either way Farah wanted no part of it.
Farah was about to walk away when Kirk forcefully grabbed her wrist again. “You ain’t going no-fucking-where!”
“You’re hurting me! Let go!” She dropped to the floor and her pink cup rolled a few inches out into the hallway.
Kirk was preparing to hit Farah when a six-foot-five-inch man came out of the apartment next door. His presence was huge and filled up the entire hallway. His dark skin was so perfect it almost didn’t look real. The man’s bald head was clean, and with the exception of a scar that ran across the right side of his neck, he was exactly like she imagined. Under the light the mark glistened like liquid platinum under the sun. Farah never, in her entire life, wanted a man more than she did him, from first sight. This was the man of her dreams ... the one she wrote about since she was a child ... she was sure of it.
